


Hungry Motives (NaNoWriMo)

by FantasyPrincess



Category: nanowrimo - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyPrincess/pseuds/FantasyPrincess





	Hungry Motives (NaNoWriMo)

The firelight flickered against her scaly skin, warming against the chill breeze. Huntress stoked the fire with ease and rotated her kill on the spit, her fluid eyes locked on the fragile form of her prey. 

Clucking her tongue, her faithful bird perched itself on her thorny shoulders, clicking in her ears with anticipation. "Shh, Anazima, you will soon have that feast I promised," Huntress smiled. Turning the kill again and testing the flesh, her long fingernails jutted into the meat of the thing and prodding juices forth, finally running clear and clean. She slowly eased the animal down off the fire and spread it's bounty on the ground. With the flat small blade she usually kept at her waist, more for supping than any kind of real self preservation, she let the meat fall off the bones and perfect bite size pieces for herself and her companion.

Greenish brown scales covered her entire body and protected her from most harm. She did have hair, but it was coarse and she kept it short so that it would not distract her from her daily routine. Her eyes were of a golden yellow but her mouth and cheeks were kinder than she would ever admit. Huntress was six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds of muscle. Her bulk was something that kept most people at a distance without the need of violence. She was handy with a sword, if she had to be, but she preferred a sturdier lighter weapon, like a staff. Prowling the forests for the last twelve years was nothing new to her. The dark shadowy evenings and the too bright days were commonplace now and all she wanted to do was get moving again as soon as she could. Restless in one place for too long, her legs had begun to work themselves into a rhythm of unease, similar to the crackles escaping from the wood and sputtering light.

Sighing deeply, her belly full of the poor creature that hadn't been fast enough to evade her, she gazed up at the swimmingly shadowed night and thought about home. There would be a fire in the den now, and a roaring laughter coming from the kitchens and the stoves where the servants were smiling about to prepare a feast. All the ladies of court would be out there in their finery wanting nothing but the most common gossip and all the world to adore them... Huntress grunted and tossed a bone into the fire.

Fine ladies indeed, she thought. Her face took on a strange hollow glow in the light of the flames. Anazima, knowing when Huntress was ill at ease, went to her in fright and was welcomed with a light petting about her feathers.

"I'm not angry with you, pet." Huntress cooed, giving Anazima a bone to peck at for a while.

Silently, Huntress got up to stretch and pull at the last remaining dregs of food. She put some into pouches to save for the long journey that was likely upon them in the coming months and buried the remains of the carcass.

Packing up her weapons and other tools for traveling, her face frowned again thinking of home. Noiselessly, Anazima flew up into the branches of a nearby tree to rest for the night and left Huntress to make her bed. 

She first laid out the padded straw she’d spent the last few months weaving into a makeshift mattress and then a covering of sheepskin. The woolen blanket that she purchased from a beggar all those summer months ago had really come in handy. The workmanship of it was just exquisite and there was truly nothing more that she enjoyed then the feel of that blanket on her scales at night. Turning onto her stomach, she let loose a potent sigh into the sheepskin and shut her eyes rightly.

Well, why shouldn't she feel grief for the life she should have led? Where was the sadness in what she was doing now? Her father would be proud of her, wouldn't he? It was certain, he would be smiling if he saw her doing these things. It was mother, Alma, who would be so terribly out of sorts that she'd likely not even acknowledge that they were flesh and blood.

Finally, after plenty of silent bargaining with her long lost memories, Huntress drifted off to sleep.

~~

Twenty years ago, a scream was heard all throughout the kingdom of Feendalia. The nobles didn't know what was happening but the peasants were all too understanding of that particular kind of cry. It was not uncommon for some Po'Mindari males to take wives among the poor and sickly in the village. Most times they didn't even stay to raise their young and mothers could be left with the task of trying to understand a being that was so very opposite everything they would always strive to be.

That night would mark a mother's first caress of her child and then her immediate horror and disgust, forcing a father to settle both screaming women at once with gentle soothing words.

Love has ways of betraying those we hold most dear. It's all much simpler and more commonplace a story than people might suspect. Alma was a princess who wed Ha'Nikar, leader of the Po'Mindari clan, in order to mutually protect their lands and hold a truce that would have threatened the livelihood of all the new generations of life. No one suspected their union would be enjoyed and even produce offspring. In fact, everyone had assumed they're matrimony would only be lasting on paper and neither would look upon the other except for social engagements.

Alma's parents, the king and queen, never understood it and were extremely concerned when their daughter became heavy with child. Huntress was the first, born in blood and sweat, into a hot world that she would always feel chill from. Alma, already a woman of nineteen, could not have been prepared for her permanent disapproval of her offspring. Looking at her daughter, her own pale eyes to her daughter's dark irises, her smooth hand trying to cradle the rough green scales of a Po'Mindari, she wept and was utterly inconsolable for four days. It was left to Ha'Nikar to see that his daughter was brought up strong and felt loved, for he knew that a child born in hatred was surely destined to fail in life. He had done his best to warn the palace guards that if the babe was to be closer to his side of the family, that they would need to have the castle as warm as possible for as long as possible. He never left her for more than a moment each day and constantly touched her, helping to keep her warm and transfer what little body heat he could, and of course let her know that she was wanted.

Finally when Alma emerged from her grief at the child she'd assumed she'd have, Ha'Nikar instructed her on the best care. How meat was preferred, even as early as a month of age, and how she should expect Huntress to be far more advanced that other children her own age.

Alma didn't believe it of course until she began noticing everything herself. Huntress could ride a horse at the age of 3 was a highly elevated in her learning with various tutors in all subjects. Even though she had been taught etiquette and could exact the reasons for it and the prideful nature of it, her mother could practically feel her daughter slipping through her fingers and becoming more like her father everyday. Granted, Alma loved this man, but it was quite another thing for a noble woman to watch as a princess of the realm just simply couldn't sit still and read or weave or knit and wanted to go hunting all of the time and bring back large game with the other noble boys in the land.

No one could have explained to Huntress the expectations of a princess, not in the first few years of life. She never accepted her status, for reasons that probably she herself didn't even understand, and at less than 7 years old she ran away. She left her little brother and sister behind, vowing to her father that she would return one day. Ha'Nikar, while a gentle and proud father, was still a loving husband and he couldn't deny that Alma had taken to her other children in a way that she never had taken to Huntress. 

Saddened but determined, she slipped out one night, vowing to return when her wild nature had been more satisfied. Alma did not mourn like her husband did, but when her other siblings found out about their old sister abandoning them, they turned their cold eyes back to their mother and dedicated they’re lives to the noble house of their name.

~~

Morning on the forest was not as harsh as it used to be at the palace, and Huntress awoke gracefully to face the day. Her eyes were instantly open the moment she was awake and she spent the better part of her morning routine preening her scales in an effort to make them shine.

Finally, after washing her face and packing up all of her garb, she set out for the morning’s hunt. Typically she swung by the watering hole to see if there was any hippo she could snare but usually only alligators awaited her there.

Disappointed again, she ventured further into the brush. Sitting quietly up a tree, she waited. The sun moved in the sky as if it had more of a purpose than she did. Eating and personal hygiene aside, she finally spied a deer, chomping on a leaf or two in the clearing.

“Oh you beauty,” Huntress said, lining up the shot with her staff. She closed one eye and got a perfect angle to get the deer right in the heart. The soft thump of it as it hit the ground was glory to her ears and even made her mouth water just a bit.

“How tasty you will be,” Huntress thought. “Anazima will surely be very pleased with the bounty I have provided yet again. Slowly, she lowered herself down and began to clean her kill rather immediately.

~~


End file.
